


Ritorno

by SandraMorningstar



Category: The Borgias (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9337451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraMorningstar/pseuds/SandraMorningstar
Summary: After years in France Cesare was finally in Italy once more and his happiness to be back on home soil was only surpassed by his delight to see his sister Lucrezia again after all this time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EllaStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaStorm/gifts).



> This is the christmas present for my dear friend and beta-reader EllaStorm. She loved it and agreed to let me upload it here which I am thankful for because it's been a while since I last posted something. -_-'
> 
> Disclaimer:   
> There are some passages in Italian in this fic. Nothing too complicated but if there are any problems understanding it just let me know and I'll add a translation.

Half a day’s travel from Rome, Cesare sent the carriage back. They were resting at an inn to spare themselves and the horses the exhausting travel through the midday heat. He sat at the table with the driver and his young son, who was being trained to follow in his father’s footsteps, shared a meal and listened to their easy conversation, occasionally chiming in with a comment if he felt like it. His mind wandered, though, thinking about his arrival in Rome – finally within reach after five long years – and he suddenly knew with complete certainty that he didn’t want to share this moment with anybody. So after the meal he paid them the agreed-upon price and, with a brief but heartfelt thanks, sent them on their way. He rented a room at the inn – under a false name, just to be sure – and arranged for a horse to be ready for him the next morning.

* * *

 

The ride towards Rome was a pleasant one; the sun warming him even at this early hour. The sky was blue and vast, stretching until it kissed hills on the horizon. At first the road was framed by farms and fields and villages but in time the rural farmland bled into the suburbs. All the while the street he travelled on was growing smaller and more crowded as he neared the city but Cesare had no eye for that. He was instead taking in the familiar architecture he only now realized he’d missed. 

And then, rounding a corner, he saw one of the impressive gates to the city. He’d known its name once but, for the life of him, couldn’t remember it now. It was a somber realization. One he quickly replaced with the much happier thought of meeting his family again. Well, part of his family at least. Vanozza, Joffre and, of course, Lucrezia.

He had missed her most of all even though she’d written him countless letters. Still, it was a poor substitute. Even though Lucrezia’s writings had her signature charm and wit and he could practically hear her speaking to him when he read her lines, something was missing. The way her eyes shone with bright, innocent passion when she spoke or the gentle, flowing gestures of her hands. In short, she was missing, making her words but a reminder of her absence – but today he would finally see her again. 

When he arrived at Vanozza’s palace, however, he was surprised to find the house deserted. For a moment he froze in front of the entrance, the palm of his hand on the door, his mind racing with all the possible horrific scenarios that could explain their absence. Then the door swung open to reveal an older, stout woman in simple clothes, apparently one of the house servants.

“Si?”, she said unimpressed, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Chi è? Che cosa vuole?” Had she been employed after he’d left or had he changed so much that she didn’t recognise her? Cesare tried to suss out if he recognised her but didn’t come to a satisfying conclusion. So much time had passed since he left and the woman would have been much younger then. 

“Arrivederci, messere!”, she said brusquely, interrupting his thoughts, and tried to close the door on him. 

“Un momento!”, he implored her hastily. “Cerco Signora Vanozza.”

“She’s not here and I’m not at liberty to say where she went”, the woman informed him. “Now if you’ll excuse me” There was a slight tremor between the firmness in her voice. She looked sternly at Cesare’s hand who was holding the door open, both of them knowing that if he decided to force his entry there was nothing she would be able to do about it. He wasn’t going to, though.

“Please”, he said as gentle as he could, “I assure you I don’t mean any harm to the Signora. I’m her son; Cesare.”

That got her attention. “Oh”, she said in shock. “Scusate mi. I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright. I have been gone for a long time and I’m glad you’re careful who you tell about my mother’s whereabouts.”

“Thank you, messere”, the woman said and bowed her head in polite submission. “Would you like to step inside for a moment. Then I will tell you where you can find the Signora.” She opened the door for him again and made an inviting gesture. 

* * *

 

As it turned out, her mother and Lucrezia had just done what every Roman with enough money did during summer: flee the city and its sweltering heat. The house servant had given him directions to the country estate where they were staying but Cesare wouldn’t have needed that. It was the family estate and he’d found his way there blind. Some of his happiest childhood memories were set there. How fitting that that was the place he would reunite with Lucrezia.

He thanked the house servant and his excitement made him almost run out of the door. He mounted his horse and made it gallop through the streets, back out of the city, annoyed shouts and curses following him. 

When the estate came in sight, Cesare felt like he could breathe freely for the first time in years. His horse was exhausted but he patted its neck encouragingly. “We’re almost there”, he said.

Vanozza was working in her small flower garden that was her pride and joy and she spotted him riding up to the house long before he saw her. By the time Cesare dismounted in front of the residence, she was waiting for him on the steps.

“Cesare.” She smiled warmly and pulled him into a long hug when he came up to meet her. “We weren’t expecting you for at least another week! Lucrezia will be absolutely thrilled to see you. She’s been talking about nothing but your visit the past weeks. Go on then; surprise her. She’s in the garden by the pond.” 

“Thank you”, Cesare said and gave his mother a kiss before he walked inside and through the house to the sprawling garden in the back. The pond was in a secluded corner of the garden, in the middle of a small grove of trees. Lucrezia and he had learned to swim there and snuck outside for a midnight swim on more than one occasion. The memory brought a smile to his face. 

As he walked through the garden he became aware of another thing he’d missed. The smell of the air here in the country. In France, everything smelled delicate and fragranced. Italy’s perfume was more rustic but also had more facets than France could ever hope to acquire. It smelled of spices, sweet fruits, hay and sun-dried leaves and grass and pure, radiant light all at once.   
Cesare stepped into the glade and the air around him grew a little cooler under the shade of the trees. A faint breeze made the leaves whisper and carried a clear, strong, melodious laugh with it. He would have recognised it anywhere and under any circumstance. Lucrezia.

His feet carried him forward as if on their own accord, hasty and uncoordinated. His heart was beating like it wanted to break through his chest and beat him to his beloved sister. He stumbled out of the shadow of the trees onto the small clearing with the pond, breathing heavily, his eyes ghosting over the scene until they finally found Lucrezia and lingered there. He felt like a drowning man who had finally spotted a ship coming to save him. His chest grew lighter. His feet slowed, no longer in any haste now that they had finally reached their goal. 

“Cesare!”, Lucrezia exclaimed, her eyes widening in her excitement. She jumped out of the chair she’d been sitting on and rushed over to fling her arms around his neck, earning herself a stern remark from the painter who had been working on a portrait of her. “Oh, I am so happy to see you. I thought you wouldn’t come for another week and that would have felt like an eternity to me.” She laughed and kissed him on both cheeks, pulling him into another hug right afterwards. 

“Come, I want to show you something.” She beckoned him over to the painter and his easel. “What do you say?”, she said, gesturing at the half-finished portrait.

The painter definitely had talent. He had captured Lucrezias beauty almost perfectly. A lesser artist might have made her seem pale surrounded by the lushness of the forest and the shimmering water of the lake but this wasn’t the case here. Lucrezia looked like the angel that she was and had always been to him; a radiant, ethereal figure surrounded by god’s rich creation. It still was a mere copy of Lucrezia’s true appeal but it came quite close, Cesare had to admit.

“It is beautiful”, he said and bowed his head in approval towards the painter. Then he returned his eyes to Lucrezia and added. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I sure hope so”, Lucrezia said, a bright smile illuminating her face. “Perugino comes highly recommended and, so far, he has proven himself not only a wonderful painter but also an entertaining conversationalist.”

“Mille Grazie Signora”, the painter interjected. 

“Be thankful for your silver tongue, Messer Perugino”, Cesare said with a smirk. “My sister is a horrible sitter if she is bored.”

“I am not!”, Lucrezia protested and nudged him playfully. “I think we’ll stop for today, Perugino. I haven’t seen my dear brother in years and we have lots of catching up to do. Can you come back in three days to finish it up?”

“Si. With pleasure, Signora.”

“Thank you.”

Cesare waited while Lucrezia saw the painter off, content to just be near her. He felt a calmness take hold of him he’d not experienced since he’d left for France. 

Later they were sitting by the lake, holding their feet in the water to keep cool.

“Tell me about France”, Lucrezia begged. “Do you like it there?”

“It is so different than Italy; I don’t know if you can even compare the two”, Cesare began. “It’s a very beautiful country but it’s an artificial beauty. Even their gardens are planned out and trimmed to perfection. No leaf is out of place. It’s nice to look at, sure, but you always know it’s unnatural. And unnatural beauty always pales in comparison to natural one.”

“How very poetic, brother”, Lucrezia said quietly and rested a head on his shoulder. “Am I correct in assuming Italy is natural beauty in your comparison?”

“Yes”, Cesare said. “Italy is natural beauty. Italy and you.” He turned towards her and kissed her softly. “I missed you”, he sighed.

“I missed you more”, she breathed, a quiet smile on her lips.

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?”, he asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“And I beat you already”, Lucrezia laughed. 

“I never stood a chance against you.”

“Poor Cesare”, she teased, smiling playfully and peppering him with soft kisses. 

“Don’t pity me too much”, he said softly and picked her up, carrying her like a husband his bride. “You know I rarely play fair.” And with that he waded into the water.

Lucrezia laughed and struggled until Cesare lost grasp of her and she fell into the water, for a moment completely submerged. When she breached the surface again she was laughing still. 

She stood up again, her wet dress clinging to her shapely figure, and wrapped her arms around him. “You still like losing as little as I remember.” With that she pulled him forward, making them both sink beneath the water’s surface this time. Cesare had barely had time to take a breath before he was pulled under. He felt the burning lack of oxygen in his lungs and then Lucrezias delicate hands on his cheeks. She emerged from the water like an elusive siren, kissed him and guided him back to the sun-warmed water surface. 

“I think I could live with losing to you”, Cesare said and when he kissed her this time it was decidedly less chaste. “But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold after all.”

“Of course”, she said in mock earnesty. 

They swam back to the shore and laid down in the grass, letting their soaked clothes dry in the warm afternoon sunlight. 

“I think I’ll give you my portrait as a gift”, Lucrezia said after a while. “So you always have something of real beauty to look at.”

“I would love that, mia cara”, Cesare said. “But let’s not talk about me leaving today. I just arrived and for all I care this right here could last forever.”

“I wish it would”, Lucrezia said and snuggled up to him. 

In the evening, they had a wonderful meal sitting at a table on the back terrace together with Vanozza. They drank wine and talked until late at night. Lucrezia excused herself first, followed by her mother. Cesare sat outside long after they’d left, enjoying the look of a familiar night sky until it got too cold to be comfortable. 

He went inside and up to the room Vanozza had let the servants prepare for him. Opening the door, he was surprised to find Lucrezia waiting for him, wearing nothing but a fine, white nightgown.

“There you finally are”, she said quietly. “I almost thought you wouldn’t come.” She looked at him, half alluring, half shy. It was a beautiful picture. 

The first time she had turned up in his room like this, he had been ill prepared. This time was different, though. He knew exactly what he wanted.

“Come here”, he said invitingly and she walked up to him, her hips swaying teasingly. “May I?”, he asked and motioned towards the laces keeping her night gown closed. She nodded. His fingers untied them reverently and pulled the piece of clothing off her slender, porcelain-skinned body. When he’d left she’d already been a woman but she still had the radiance of childhood. Now her aura was completely that of a woman and all the more enticing because of it. 

“Do you like what you see?”, she asked, playing with a strand of her golden hair. 

“Yes”, Cesare said, his words barely above a whisper. “I love every piece of you. Always.” He pulled her into a fiery kiss and guided her over to the bed. “I dreamed about this for so many nights”, he said as he began to explore her body all anew. 

“So have I”, she sighed. “Every night.”


End file.
